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The rude portals that give light
More to terror than delight; 50
This my chamber of neglect,
Walled about with disrespect;
From all these and this dull air,
A fit object for despair,
She hath taught me by her might
To draw comfort and delight.
Therefore thou best, earthly bliss
I will cherish thee for this,—
Poesy!—thou sweetest content
That e'er heaven to mortals lent60
Though they as a trifle leave thee
Whose dull thoughts cannot conceive thee;
Though thou be to them a scorn
That to nought but earth art born;
Let my Life no longer be
Than I am in love with thee;
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